


This is how the Rookie crumbles

by Ki_ru



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Boys Kissing, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Rook likes to eat, Smut, Teasing, both of them are helpless saps, poor bandit, suave Blitz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-16 03:03:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18682840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ki_ru/pseuds/Ki_ru
Summary: It’s just -It’s really hard to concentrate on the paperwork which should’ve been finished last week (and will earn the entire German team yet another bollocking from Six if they don’t submit ittoday)when Rook is lounging on the armchair in a way that his midriff is largely exposed while sucking down a popsicle and spreading his legs suggestively.Rook tries to tease Blitz while he has to do work, and Blitz retaliates.





	This is how the Rookie crumbles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cheloneh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheloneh/gifts).



> This wouldn't exist without [cheloneh](http://cheloneh.tumblr.com/), so thank you so so much ❤❤ At this point all you're doing is giving me excuses to write ships I adore anyway :)

Rook is being a cheeky little bitch.

It’s not out of the ordinary, not at all, he’s known for his occasional sassiness – he managed to earn his reputation early on when Doc made him miss lunch one day, so he unpacked a large slice of lasagne during a meeting Ash conducted later. She informed him eating was not allowed in the room yet made the mistake of saying yes when Rook asked whether drinking was alright. He returned after a few minutes, lasagne puréed into an unsavoury mess, and poured it down his throat while keeping up eye contact with Ash. He’s probably glad Maestro hadn’t joined at that point or else he might’ve ended up with a lifelong nemesis that day.

Over time, Blitz himself has repeatedly fallen victim to Rook’s mischievous streak as well, received quite a few backhanded compliments he sometimes only understood a day later (when it was decidedly too late to be upset), got tricked into doing Rook favours without realising and allowed the Frenchman to manipulate him into various activities – but since they tend to involve making out with abandon, mind-blowing orgasms and staying home just to cuddle these days, he’s not complaining.

So, no, Blitz is _very_ accustomed to Rook’s antics and even more familiar with the knowing glances he gets whenever he lets his boyfriend walk all over him in public, which in this case is represented by Bandit’s meaningful smirk taunting him from the seat opposite him. Still, it’s all in good humour. Blitz wishes he could make everyone understand, because as much as it looks like Rook is taking advantage of his patience, generosity and naiveté, Rook apologises to him in private if he feels he went too far, makes it up to him with petting his hair until he falls asleep, back rubs and brewing him a hot chocolate _just_ when he needs it, and he always makes sure Blitz is fine with his brash behaviour.

Which he is. Really, he loves Rook just the way he is, with all his impulsive thoughtlessness, infuriating lack of focus and regular disregard of rules, because there’s so, so much more to him than that.

It’s just -

It’s really hard to concentrate on the paperwork which should’ve been finished last week (and will earn the entire German team yet another bollocking from Six if they don’t submit it _today)_ when Rook is lounging on the armchair in a way that his midriff is largely exposed while sucking down a popsicle and spreading his legs suggestively. Prior to the view with which he’s graced right now, Blitz would’ve steadfastly claimed there was no wrong way of occupying a chair but now he’d have to retract that statement because holy hell, how can he even contort himself like this?

Rook knows this is important work which needs to be done, and yet he ignored Blitz’ reassurance that it’s fine if he leaves early (and if he’s honest it was more of a plead than an offer, he knew Rook would distract him somehow if he stayed) and remained, talking to anyone and everyone until they all left. And then he became bored.

By now, the entire base knows that a bored Rook is a dangerous Rook.

It started with him sending sweet texts which quickly devolved into sleazy texts at which point Blitz muted his own phone, progressed with Rook undressing enough to still be decent yet showing off his assets unashamedly and has now peaked with the current display. He makes for an extremely pretty picture: tongue swirling over the ice cream, fingers lazily playing with the hem of his shirt whose sleeves _happened_ to ride up and expose his biceps, and if that wasn’t enough already, the aqua blue tinted bedroom eyes are the epitome of seduction techniques. Blitz’ knees go a little weak.

“Kötz!”, Bandit nearly yells at him, irritation bleeding into his previously delighted expression and betraying the fact that he must’ve addressed Blitz several times already, to no avail. With herculean effort, he tears his gaze away from bright red lips curling in amusement to an unimpressed Bandit. “Jesus Christ, you two need to fuck it out of your system? Want me to go eat a long dinner and give you some privacy?”

Blitz is useless and it must be obvious enough for Bandit to notice. For most of the past hour, Blitz has been doing nothing but throw surreptitious glances at his reasonably well-behaved lover who has slowly morphed from a quiet, soothing presence into exactly the kind of softcore porn directly wired to Blitz’ crotch. He’s had a few stressful days leaving him little time to spend with Rook and thus was planning on making it up to him once he’s finished with his current task, but watching Rook over Bandit’s shoulder, watching as his hand glides lower and fingertips dip into the waistband of his trousers while he almost chokes himself on the popsicle -

Rook knows nothing is going to come out of it, not when Blitz is busy, but simply getting a rise out of him counts as a victory – he adores Blitz when he’s frazzled, relishes making him blush and loves nothing more than embarrassing him with blunt statements, so Blitz asking him to leave or even just adjusting his own jeans would be a success.

He’s probably not accounting for the fact that Blitz, too, is touch-starved, missing their relaxed evenings together, wishing he had more time to spend with his boyfriend. He’s not considering how long Blitz has been working on their reports already, how sick of it he is, how little patience he has left for Bandit’s endless inappropriate remarks and how _frustrating_ it is to be allowed to look but not touch.

And so Blitz creates a deafening, dumbstruck, disbelieving silence when he turns to Bandit and sweetly says: “That’s a great suggestion, actually. Would you?”

It fills him with immense, grim satisfaction to see both banes of his existence unable to process what just happened.

“Mon cœur -”, Rook starts to protest and slides into his chair like a normal human being, still seemingly shocked, whereas Bandit slowly begins to grin. He gets it: Blitz has tilted, and if anyone can identify this fact, it’d be Bandit.

Bandit was the one present when Blitz tore into their direct superior for endangering lives unnecessarily, he witnessed Blitz drink a worrying amount of energy drinks and climb a dilapidated ten-storey building because someone made the mistake of challenging him, and even knows about the time Blitz stubbornly refused to lose in a competition of who can eat the most hot peppers. It took place in India. Blitz was filled with fire and regret for an entire week but hey, he won.

There’s a time where he just says _fuck it_ and since it hasn’t happened in a while, since he has barely even kissed Rook recently and since Rook seemed so dead set on flaunting his assets, that time is _now_.

“Sure”, Bandit agrees easily, much to the Frenchman’s open disbelief, and actually gets up. “Take your time. I know I will.”

“Wait.” Watching Rook attempt to figure out whether they’re taking the piss or actually being serious is just as gratifying as his eyes widening proportionally the closer Bandit moves to the office door. “You’re not – mon cœur, you’re not _seriously_ -”

“I’m dead serious”, Blitz replies with a smile, because he is. And also because it’s hilarious to see Rook this flustered.

“You better believe him”, Bandit adds and probably serves more to undermine Blitz’ authority than strengthen it, at least with how hyena-like his grin is. “Maybe if you ask nicely, he’s gonna raw you on the desk like you asked.”

Okay, no. Hold on a moment. “Dom, are you reading my private messages again?”

“No, just a lucky guess. It’s obvious your fromage is giving you the fuck-me eyes and if he didn’t have a boner for anything office job related, he certainly wouldn’t be dating you of all people.”

Under different circumstances, Blitz would object to his love life being dragged to the surface or Bandit speaking of Rook like this, but he’s about a week’s worth of overtime past caring about details. “You read the texts upside down”, he states drily.

“I read the texts upside down.”

“Hey”, Rook protests weakly, the melting ice cream in his hand forgotten, but once again is ignored by both Germans.

“Anyway, have fun, you disgusting lovebirds, I’m gonna head to Fowler’s for some chips.” Bandit’s hand is on the doorknob already but he pauses when he notices Blitz’ dubious expression. “What? That gonna be too quick? Want me to go to Domino’s instead?” The pizza joint is a considerably longer distance away and notorious for always being busy, thus racking up ample waiting time. Blitz nods wordlessly.

“You’re fucking with me”, Rook says without much conviction in his voice at all.

“Domino’s it is. If you swipe all this shit off the desk though, there’s no way I’m gonna help sort it, just so we’re clear.”

“Maybe you should buy enough pizza for all of us”, Blitz suggests politely and earns both a finger as well as a good-natured laugh, and then Bandit slams the door shut behind him.

Rook is _thunderstruck_. Eyes and mouth wide open, he’s like a fish out of water and Blitz really can’t blame him. Due to a variety of reasons, Rook tends to initiate their lovemaking; it’s yet another distribution of roles which came about naturally over the course of their relationship – Rook initiates and usually expresses a preference and Blitz has the final word on what they actually end up doing. It works perfectly and so they don’t often stray from this tried and tested method, and even when they do it’s oftentimes at Rook’s nudging.

It’s why he can’t deal with being propositioned this bluntly.

“We’re not _really_ gonna have sex now”, Rook tries again, voice dying on the last syllable when Blitz’ chair creaks over the floor and gets up. His next words are uttered very quietly: “… are we?”

“My love”, Blitz murmurs as he steps up to his by now reasonably intimidated-looking boyfriend with a soothing smile. “My sunshine, my treasure.” He leans down to press their lips together gently, smile widening when Rook, despite his lack of composure, tilts his head into it. He tastes of sugar and artificial strawberries, a syrupy layer on his cool tongue and for once, he’s not trying to inappropriately deepen the kiss. Blitz would guess it has to do with him seemingly expecting Bandit to burst back in triumphantly any moment now, if his stiff body language is anything to go by.

It’s a wonderful feeling and an immense comfort to allow himself to indulge in his lover, but since he’s got other plans, Blitz keeps the touching of lips brief. “Of course not”, he assures Rook.

Rook seems unable to make up his mind whether he’s relieved or upset at this revelation. Momentary hunger creeps into his expression when Blitz lifts his wrist so he can lick off the excess liquid running down Rook’s fingers from the melted treat, but as usual, he’s less cocky without an audience and therefore doesn’t capitalise on the coquettish display. Especially since he seems to believe Blitz. “Then what -”

“Julien, my heart’s desire. Would you like to go on a trip to Brussels with me?”

And this is where the Frenchman momentarily shuts down. Blinking owlishly and breathing still works, yet beyond that not much is going on as he struggles to process the question, much to Blitz’ delight. He’d wanted it to be much more romantic, wanted to floor his lover with how thoughtful he can be if he sets his mind to it – he was going to buy a rose on the way back from work together with Rook’s favourite pastry from the bakery at the other end of the city, and ask him in the privacy of his apartment, maybe while they’re cuddling and catching up on the couch or the bed. This is… not ideal, not what he’d had in mind, but he’ll take it. After all, it doesn’t look like it’s missing its intended effect.

“Wha”, says Rook.

“I know I’ve been working too much lately and I miss spending entire days with you, so I requested some time off in two weeks. When you’re also off duty.” His explanation does nothing to diminish his boyfriend’s endless astonishment – if anything, it seems to make it worse as the realisation is slowly sinking in.

“But you said you couldn’t -”

“I did. I changed my mind. You’re too important to me to prioritise work over you. I want to show you how much I value the time we spend together.” And Rook is painfully aware of how hard it is for Blitz to pour out his heart like this, reveal his feelings. He’s probably gathered bits and pieces from comments Blitz dropped here and there, put two and two together and painted an adequately grim picture of previous relationships in his mind, as evidenced by the fact that he doesn’t pry, never once drilled Blitz on his past in that regard. The awkward dancing preceding Rook’s half frustrated, half exasperated confession might’ve been telling enough already: Blitz has a hard time fully committing for fear of being rejected.

Right now, there’s no anxiety nesting in his chest. Somewhere along the way, somewhere amidst the open devotion and unshaken trust he finally allowed himself to believe Rook’s emotions are genuine and that his own infatuation is reciprocated just as strongly.

And Rook very much knows how difficult it must’ve been for Blitz to prepare this open declaration of love, which is why he visibly softens, helpless and unsure how to respond. And he smiles, basically _beams_ , and mutters: “Please stop.” And -

Uh.

Now it’s Blitz’ turn to blink at his lover, a little lost, which does not escape Rook as he immediately backpedals: “No, I mean – you’re gonna make me cry. In, in a good way. Goddamn, mon cœur, I’m just – I don’t know what to say. Fuck.”

“You could say yes?”, Blitz suggests politely and earns a small laugh.

“Okay. Yes.” Still smiling so widely his cheeks must hurt by this point, Rook tosses the remains of his popsicle at the trash can, gets up to be at eye level with Blitz and hugs him tight enough to suffocate. “Yes, let’s go to Brussels. I’d love to, I’ve always wanted to go.”

It was all Blitz wanted to hear. He peppers Rook’s luscious hair and temple with kisses as he holds him close and can’t keep a certain smugness out of his voice: “I know.” He’s aware of seeming quite scatter-brained sometimes, especially in non-work-related issues, but his memory is excellent. And this is a snippet of information he filed away carefully when he stumbled over it.

Still, as lovely as it is to be pressed against Rook’s solid, warm body, it’s by far not nearly enough, and so he asks in the most innocent tone he can muster: “So is it okay if I ravish you now?”

In the following stunned silence, Blitz starts out by swirling the tip of his tongue over his lover’s outer ear, prompting a breathless _oh_ , and when he switches to nibbling at the earlobe, he’s rewarded with an even more breathless _ah_. He can feel Rook melting in his arms, clearly overwhelmed with the entire situation but audibly _loving_ it, therefore he meets no resistance as he pushes him towards the sturdy desk, never once ceasing his ministrations. When Rook’s thighs come into contact with solid wood (and they’re going to feel the same from both sides very soon with how Blitz’ anticipatory need is climbing steadily), Blitz is busy dragging his teeth over the sensitive skin on Rook’s neck, feeling him shiver in his arms. It’s an immense rush to notice how much he’s already affecting the Frenchman; knowing he’s desired as much as he’s desiring is intoxicating in itself.

“Don’t joke about this”, Rook pleads as soon as he’s given a moment to breathe. He’s whispering and every word crawls under Blitz’ skin, creates an electrifying friction he almost expects to see between their faces, a result of implied longing and heated gazes and the involuntary twitching of fingers against his side. “I know you’d never actually do anything in the office, so teasing me like this is -”

Blitz interrupts him wordlessly by reaching out and, with a single broad swipe, sends all the papers populating the desktop flying – all the while holding Rook’s gaze.

Rook shuts up instantly, his pained expression slipping into incredulity, and when the gesture registers, it looks like he encounters a little trouble standing straight. “Oh fuck”, he breathes quietly.

“That’s the idea”, Blitz agrees and kisses him. This time, he’s not holding back since there’s no reason – he’s said what he wanted to say, received the reply he was hoping for and now all that’s left is to worship his boyfriend until he’ll have trouble walking. His tongue wrestles for control which Rook readily grants him, moaning into his mouth as he holds onto Blitz for dear life, and when he has to bend backwards with the force of the kiss he finally gets the hint and hops onto the now empty table. It allows for an even deeper make out session and Blitz belatedly realises just how horny he is when Rook’s strong legs wrap around him to hold him in place as he keeps running his hand through brown curls and sucking on Rook’s lower lip.

“This is the hottest thing you’ve ever done”, his lover murmurs against his mouth, sounding positively enthralled and forcing a delighted laugh out of Blitz. “Come on, let me feel you. We haven’t done anything in _so long_ , I’m dying, let me touch you.”

“No.” He almost laughs again over Rook’s exaggerated pout. “My pace. I want you to enjoy this.”

“And what if I want _you_ to enjoy this?”

Even now, Rook is rebelliously testing boundaries. If Blitz is honest, it’s utterly adorable. “Julien, I enjoy myself the most when I know _you’re_ enjoying yourself.”

A defiant look is shot his way, but his lover relents nonetheless. “Tell me what to do then.”

He’s back to malleable now and Blitz is not letting this opportunity pass him by. “Lie back.” After the Frenchman has complied, Blitz wiggles out of the iron grip of his legs to lean down and push the hem of Rook’s shirt up with his nose, exposing his soft belly slowly and showering it in ticklish kisses. He relishes the way muscles jump under his lips, so he adds gentle fingertips to the mix, feels out the squishy flesh and runs them over Rook’s sides, continuously climbing higher until he has to pause so his lover can take off his shirt and display his body. And what a body it is. Blitz takes his time to admire its entirety, eyes wandering over light skin, taking note of birthmarks, the broad chest and the darker trail of hairs disappearing into Rook’s waistband.

It’s an open secret Rook loves to eat. By now, no one dares stand between him and food and everyone has long learnt to bribe him with meals whenever they want to curry favour instead of simply buttering him up with flattery, and most people on base have been milking this information for what it’s worth. Blitz is acquainted with a few operators who, in order to develop the required physical prowess for the job, quit sugar and fast food cold turkey, whereas Rook populates the opposite end of the spectrum – quantity is his bread and butter, and where others might discover something as not their cup of tea, Rook gladly acts as a sort of waste disposal, devouring questionable, semi-inedible goods easy as pie. Even so, he manages to stay in shape and effortlessly keep up with his colleagues in physical training, earning him quite a few angry demands to spill the beans on how he’s faster than nearly everyone on base despite shoving several croissants into his mouth each morning.

Fact is, he’s just as capable as anyone in Hereford, he’s just a little softer around the edges. And if Blitz is honest, he loves it. Rook might still be vain (and the sheer amount of beauty products amassing in Blitz’ bathroom are evidence enough) but he doesn’t limit himself, he allows himself to enjoy the good things in life while taking care of himself, and if not looking like a flexing, male supermodel is the price he has to pay, it’s a small one. He’s still beautiful.

This is at the forefront of Blitz’ mind as he traces a rib with his tongue: _he’s so incredibly beautiful_.

And it’s as if Rook could read his mind because he relaxes under his caresses, preens under his gaze and wordlessly, unselfconsciously brags about his body – he knows how positively scorching he is, just like he knows of Blitz’ fierce attraction. It’s a mix of everything: Rook’s alluring confidence, his refreshingly _normal_ body type (because Rainbow is certainly not representational in that regard), and the vicious fondness overcoming him whenever he watches Rook casually steal a piece of candy from someone or be handed leftovers, only to demolish them just as uncommented. Together, it makes up part of a personality with which Blitz is already in love anyway, and so he’s twice as smitten whenever either he gets the chance to express his affection or Rook gets to show off.

The younger man is starting to get impatient, however, tugging at Blitz’ sleeve and shifting on the cool surface, evidently not satisfied with the attention focused solely on his torso, and though Blitz would prefer to take his time, he does agree that they don’t have forever: Bandit is only gone for so long.

“Let me do everything, alright?”, he suggests and, when it looks as if the Frenchman is about to protest once more, latches onto one of his nipples. It’s extremely effective in cutting Rook off pre-emptively, meaning Blitz makes shameless use of this fact by tonguing the hardening bud while stroking over every bit of Rook’s body he can reach. He lifts his lover’s arms over his head and presses them down slightly to indicate for them to stay there, then grabs thick thighs purely to feel the power in them, tightening the hold when muscles contract under his fingers. A quiet, needy mewl is the signal for his hands to glide higher and start unbuttoning the jeans which are very much in the way.

He takes his time and ensures Rook knows just how much Blitz missed caressing every square centimetre of his body, covers each newly uncovered naked space in kisses and leaves a few darker marks on creamy skin where it’s unlikely anyone but him will ever find them. Rook’s beginning to enjoy the affection heaped on him, stretching to allow Blitz access everywhere and shying away with quiet giggling when it gets too much. Modesty doesn’t suit him but this flirty, flattered demeanour does, and Blitz nearly laughs when he’s coyly presented Rook’s feet one after the other so he can press kisses on top and work his way up to his lover’s knees – not because it’s amusing per se, rather because of the joy bubbling up in him. Strangely enough, it feels as if he’s seducing Rook, winning him over slowly with every display of devotion like he’s a valuable prize Blitz would be lucky to acquire.

“I could do this all day”, he admits earnestly and chuckles when he’s kicked in the side in return. They _are_ still at work and getting caught would mean endless teasing from Bandit at best and official punishment at worst, but Blitz would be lying if he claimed this didn’t add to the thrill. Additionally, he’s got his gorgeous boyfriend laid out for him like a magnificent buffet and all he has to do is dig in. And so he does.

Starting with the insides of Rook’s thighs, he licks and bites his way towards his crotch, carefully avoiding the jutting erection even as his lover impatiently shifts his hips on the desk, non-verbally conveying how much he’d like for the German to move the hell on. Blitz pays no attention to it though, pushes his tongue into Rook’s navel and makes him squeak, sucks on his hipbones, drags his nails over the underside of wide thighs. The expanse of skin at his disposal is making him light-headed just as much as the sudden realisation that he gets to go home with this witty, handsome, loving man before him.

“You smell so good”, he says, because it’s true, Rook’s scent really _does_ things to him in the most inopportune moments, hits him out of nowhere and catapults his mind into inappropriate territory. “You smell like heaven, Julien, absolutely divine.” There’s a hint of sweat, but less of a biting odour and more like a natural, primal smell of which he just can’t get enough. Something in his voice must’ve given away how truthful his words are, judging by the blush manifesting on Rook’s cheeks. “I love you so much.”

The colour deepens yet is accompanied by a smile. “I love you too”, the Frenchman replies and relaxes again, spreading his legs in anticipation and resting one on Blitz’ shoulder, its weight more than welcome.

Blitz starts at his scrotum, tongue playing with the testicles and lips gently pulling on loose skin. While sucking both into his mouth, he can feel the dick bounce, and pressing against the hard part of it disappearing into Rook’s body right below the organ on which he’s currently focusing is enough to tease out a content hum. His light touches have created a tension making Rook’s stomach flutter at every other swipe of Blitz’ tongue, have gently dragged his eyelids shut and parted his lips, have deepened his breathing and anchored him in the present. He’s receptive, impressively so, and to not break the spell, Blitz spends several minutes on this particular body part before even considering moving on – and when he does, it’s a gradual affair.

Mouthing wetly at the shaft, he glides up one side and repeats the motion on the other, kissing the exposed head softly once he’s done. Rook seems to have accepted his pace and possibly slid into a higher plane of existence if his enraptured expression is anything to go by, therefore Blitz sees no need to overstimulate him and keeps it light and affectionate. He licks in broad strokes and only wraps his lips around the tip when the member strains towards him in several jumps, prompting a low moan and a hand in his hair. Rook has a tendency to unconsciously claw at him when he’s too turned on, leading Blitz to remove his hand and squeeze it reassuringly before putting his own to use: once again, they roam his boyfriend’s softer body, caressing every limb. He seems to be petting Rook into a catatonic state and has no intentions to stop any time soon, not when his quiet noises are this unguarded.

With time, he increases the intensity, sucks harder and bobs his head lower, speeds up just a tiny bit and switches to massaging hard muscles. Rook’s leg slips off his shoulder but he catches it before it collides with anything, and soon Rook is no more than a puddle, no more than a dozing cat lounging on the wood – Blitz can even stroke over his armpits which would usually result in violent flailing but now only serves to let Rook sink deeper into the caresses. If they were home, Blitz would gladly spend an entire evening doing nothing but this yet as it stands, he’s forced to withdraw from the hot flesh and wait until eyes have lazily blinked open again.

“What would you like me to do?”, he asks and can’t help himself, has to kiss Rook’s chest some more in between sluggish replies.

“Anything. Everything.” Rook sounds like he’s drunk and it’s wonderful.

“No. Julien, what would you like me to do?”

“Inside. I want you.”

Blitz obliges. He’s not the best at multitasking, certainly isn’t ambidextrous and therefore refrains from trying to turn gentle preparation into a full body experience, but it seems his tentative fingers probing to locate Rook’s most sensitive spots are working like magic nonetheless. Under his tender touches, Rook opens up willingly, rewarding his care with blissful moans and reverting back into his previous trance, quite obviously enjoying the digits rubbing over this special spot inside. Blitz commends himself mentally for bringing lubrication everywhere he goes (in case an emergency like this one arises) and exploits Rook’s weakspot shamelessly, gingerly fingering him while his eyes run over the bumps and valleys of the body before him.

He remembers the first time Rook undressed for him, neither hurried nor languid, an almost smug smile playing on his lips as he watched how Blitz stared at him wide-eyed, mesmerised, _smitten_. At that point, he wasn’t sure how to express the turmoil of emotions inside him, how to make Rook understand. Now, he knows. He knows because he’s doing it.

When he pushes inside, it feels like a gift, like Rook is vulnerable even though he’s anything but – and he accepts the older man so readily, accompanies the slow slide with a long exhale and twitching fingers and even lifts his head to throw Blitz a gaze so full of admiration his heart threatens to melt. The velvety walls surrounding him feel incredible but he tries not to get caught up in the sensation. This isn’t meant to be about him.

Blitz bottoms out and nearly whimpers at Rook biting his lower lip, expression turning pleading. Once more, powerful thighs encage him and press him impossibly closer; his hands stray and stroke them reverently again, feeling out the soft layer of skin over hard muscle, and he’s getting dizzy. He hasn’t undressed at all, neglected himself entirely for Rook’s benefit and he’s not about to stop, so he pushes aside all concerns about taking too long, about being too warm in his clothes, and starts with gentle motions.

The first moan sounds like victory, its breathy nature betraying the fact that the Frenchman is trying to stay quiet despite everyone being gone – something about doing this in Blitz’ office causes a low thrill of the forbidden, Blitz feels it as well at the base of his spine. It loosens his limbs, speeds up his movements and inspires him to find the best angle to drive Rook insane as he’s done only a handful of times before: normally, his lover tops and both of them are content with that arrangement. It also causes him to blurt out: “You look so good, my love.”

And the extremely brief pang of embarrassment over voicing his innermost thoughts this bluntly vanishes the instant genuine happiness spreads on Rook’s face, lighting it up and with it the entire room. “Do I?”, he wants to know and fluffs himself up like a vain bird during a mating dance, which is oddly appropriate despite the self-satisfied grin.

“You do.” Blitz buries himself deeper and keeps the tempo when Rook’s gloating is momentarily interrupted by a strangled groan. He seems to be onto something, and his lover’s fluttering eyelashes confirm his suspicion. He’s hitting _just_ the right spot. “Sometimes I can’t work because I’m too busy looking at you. As you very well know.”

“Do I?”, Rook repeats, amused, and adds a pleased _ah_ at the next thrust. His ring of muscle is pulsing and giving away how much he’s enjoying himself, even if he’s not as vocal about it as usual.

“It happens a lot. I just – I space out because I can’t believe how lucky I am to have you.”

This is the final nail in the coffin. Rook looks utterly helpless now, overcome with emotion and stimulation simultaneously, and for a lack of a better response, all he does is pull Blitz down to kiss him. He knows how much it turns Blitz on to kiss during sex and so he eagerly swallows his moan, wraps his arms around him and holds him in place while toying with his tongue. It’s distracting to a point where Blitz almost forgets to move until Rook begins dragging him in, and so they end up rolling their hips against each other, lips sloppily gliding over lips, hands grasping and holding and clinging as they move together.

Blitz had planned to spoil Rook rotten but he can’t deny this turn of events is just as pleasurable, not when his lover’s hot body is gripping him so tightly everywhere, not when his mouth is slowly sucking his composure out of the tip of his tongue. His fingers find a nipple and cause Rook to clamp down on him, startling a noise out of him, and in no time it becomes a contest. No more gentle movements, it’s a _war_ now, both of them trying to upstage each other in everything they do: Rook switches from lovingly making out to attacking with toe-curling kisses, making Blitz withdraw and suck on the side of his neck instead, falsely assuming that he’d be safe from Rook’s mouth like this up until his lover begins whispering all the filthy things he’s going to do to Blitz once they’re in Brussels.

Further down, it’s not much different – Rook is tensing around him and basically milking him by now, slamming their hips together and dictating the speed, leaving Blitz not much choice but to close his fist around the wet erection between them and massage it in time with his thrusts. Rook’s resolution of remaining as quiet as possible is thrown out the window the moment Blitz starts twisting his wrist on every upstroke, though he manages to silence himself by burying his teeth in Blitz’ shoulder, causing him to suck a purple bruise onto Rook’s in retaliation. Both of them are moaning now, pleasure building steadily like white noise in Blitz’ brain, drowning out most of his cognitive functions as he blindly endeavours to cause as much delight as he receives.

Rook gasps his name, hips stuttering and torn between thrusting up into Blitz’ hand and down onto his dick, and for a brief second Blitz considers pulling back to delay the inevitable under the guise of enhancing his lover’s climax, even though it’d really only be so that he can see that adorable look of betrayal on Rook’s pretty face. Instead, he tightens his grip and otherwise keeps up his motions, listens to shaky breath and feels muscles spasming, and then he props himself up on the surface to witness beauty unfold.

When his lover comes, he does so with a look of pure elation mixed with disbelief, both of which flatter him immensely. He tugs on Blitz’ clothes as his climax makes him shudder, causes his thighs to tremble and dick to throb, forces semen out of him in thick spurts coating his abdomen and it’s magnificent. This is all because of Blitz, he’s allowed to share this with Rook and he relishes the moment, imprints the view of Rook coming all over himself while spread out on his desk into his mind forever.

And it’s not until his lover tells him to come inside that he realises how freaking _close_ he’s been to doing so.

The command sets it in motion almost immediately, sending a spike of pure want through Blitz’ entire body, the affirmation decidedly too much for him: Rook wants him. Rook is satisfied because of him. Rook wants to witness exactly what he just witnessed. And so he orgasms with a pitiful whine, mouth falling open at the sudden surge of pleasure rolling through him. He pushes all the way inside and feels himself throb, ejaculating almost forcefully deep into Rook, definitely light-headed by now. The feeling is pure ecstasy, partly because it snuck up on him and now overwhelms him with its intensity, and partly because Rook is watching him raptly like he doesn’t want to miss a second. It lasts longer than usual, has him shiver and tense painfully, but fades fast too.

Still, when he sinks down onto his sweaty boyfriend as soon as the tension drains out of him, he’s left with a thorough, warm afterglow full of affection. He plants lazy and ticklish kisses on Rook’s collarbone while they’re catching their breath, refusing to let go of each other, and only stops when a palm lightly connects with his cheek in a limp-wristed mock slap.

“I didn’t know you could do that”, Rook sighs, sounding sleepy and utterly content. It’s music to Blitz’ ears.

“Do what?” He untangles from his lover and strokes the last bit of tension out of Rook’s limbs. There’s a good chance neither of them will have a particularly restful night, not with how he can’t stop touching the smooth skin.

“Be so…” Rook, at a loss for words, makes a vague gesture and nearly smacks himself in the face in the process, resulting in a gleeful chuckle from Blitz and a deep sigh from the Frenchman. “You know what I mean. Fuck. I really want to sleep now. I’ve not been this relaxed in weeks.”

“I can give you a proper massage when we’re home.” The way Rook lights up over the suggestion is answer enough. “But first, I have to finish work. No more distractions.”

“You’re conditioning me all wrong, mon cœur. If all I gotta do is shake my ass in your general direction to prompt something like _this_ -”

“Please don’t keep doing this. Our domestic harmony relies on it, and so does my job.” He plants a last kiss right over Rook’s heart and withdraws fully before helping Rook get up and clean. They bump into each other repeatedly in the process, beaming and exchanging casual touches until there’s barely any evidence left of what they just did, not counting the papers strewn all over the floor of course.

Once again, Blitz crowds his lover against the desk and kisses him breathless almost as a goodbye seeing as he’ll have to return to his reports soon. “When we’re in Belgium, I’ll do the same to you”, Rook promises him with a secretive smile. “You’ll feel so loved, mon cœur, it’s -”

And that’s when the door bursts open to a pizza-carrying Bandit with a hand slapped over his eyes, stumbling into the room blindly. “If you’re still at it, first of all: what the fuck? And second: just let me know and I’ll leave again and eat all of this myself”, he declares, waving the cartons around.

“It’s fine, we’re decent”, Blitz laughs, earning a derisive scoff.

“I somehow doubt that”, his teammate mutters, peeks through his fingers and then dejectedly catches sight of the mess the two lovebirds made. “Wow. Really?”

Blitz would be lying if he claimed he didn’t thoroughly enjoy the flush creeping back into Rook’s face. For being as open about anything sexual as he is, he sure is embarrassed easily by people stumbling over specifics. “It had to be done.”

“Sure. Alright. No problem.” Bandit rubs over his face. “This is gonna take _forever_. You owe me, I was meant to be home three hours ago.”

“Don’t worry, Julien is going to sort through them.” Rook shoots him a concerned glance. “After all, it’s only in your own best interest that we get home as soon as possible, isn’t that right, love?”

And the glare he receives in return is absolutely made worth by the sight of Rook bending over repeatedly to gather up the various sheets. Blitz sits at his desk, the very desk both of them misused mere minutes ago, head propped up, and just watches his lover happily and with an absent-minded smile which only grows whenever Rook grimaces at him.

He pictures the Frenchman still being miffed about having been roped into helping with work when they’re done, imagines winning him over another time, taking him apart with a little resistance, Rook slowly coming undone under his fingertips and forgiving him the moment he shudders to completion, and yes. He’s starting to understand why Rook enjoys being as cheeky as he is.

And he’s so caught up in his own little world that he doesn’t even hear Bandit heaving a deep sigh and murmuring to himself: “This is gonna take fucking _forever_.”

**Author's Note:**

> Come visit [my tumblr](http://kiruuuuu.tumblr.com/) if you'd like to say hi ♥ I'm much more active there :)


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